


It's Alright

by Aikona



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel awkwardly tries helping Dean, Comfort, Doubt, Fluff, M/M, S5E14, Takes place after the Cupid episode in season 5, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, spoiler-free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 16:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19135567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aikona/pseuds/Aikona
Summary: “Listen to me.” Castiel’s voice hinted towards scolding, as if talking to a child, as Dean looked to him for a long moment.“Alright, but first,” The two of them were practically standing with their noses touching. “Some space, maybe.” Dean took a step back, and Castiel did, too, despite seeming perplexed as to why....What I wish happened at the end of S5E14 'My Bloody Valentine' where Dean was desperately trying to reach out to God after hunting down Cupid, but received no answer.





	It's Alright

“... Please…” Dean looked upwards, towards the nothing that the sky was filled with, fighting the tears that threatened to drip down his face. 

“I need some help…” The air was silent, and Dean’s lip quivered pitifully, as he waited for an answer. 

“He won’t hear you, Dean.”

Startling, Dean nearly flung the bottle of alcohol he clung to ten feet in the air, before taking in a deep breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose, swiped quickly at his eyes, and pretended for a moment that this encounter was not happening. 

“Y’know…” He took a breath. “I really wish sometimes you would stop this kind of hocus-pocus.” Looking over his shoulder, Dean smiled sheepishly to Cas, who in turn regarded him in a questioning way. “You really only show up when you think it’s a good time, huh? No phone call?” 

Cas’ lips spread thin as he clenched his jaw. “Well, I… assumed you would be brooding by yourself, near your car.” Staring at Dean, blankly, the angel emphasized the space around them by waving a hand around himself. “Here you are.” 

 

Dean nodded slightly, pressing his tongue sharply to the inside of his cheek. “You’re talking sarcasm now, huh?” He pointed towards Cas with the bottle in hand, taking a swig after responding. 

“I told you,” Cas tilted his head, “Sam will be alright.” 

“Save it.” Dean disregarded the angel’s attempts, as he leaned against Baby. “You were putting faith into this guy, too, weren’t you? Into _‘God’?_ ” He emphasized his point with air quotes, as Dean apprehensively raised his eyebrows. He didn’t care if Castiel was trying to help. Hell, he sucked at doing so, in the first place. Right now, Dean just wanted to dig at something. Anything. 

“What help have you or has He been, recently, huh, Cas? For a second, I was going to-” Dean cut himself off. Suddenly, the sting of tears were ebbing in the back of his eyes, and he was blinking excessively to ward them off. “You know what?” Throwing his hands up in the air, Dean began walking past the angel, back to the house. “Nevermind.” He said over his shoulder, before Castiel could reach out to him. 

“Dean,” Castiel tried, finding that Dean kept walking. 

Gripping onto the neck of the whiskey bottle, as if it were the only thing within his power to grasp, Dean cursed at himself for even considering praying to God, even for a second. He wanted to curse everything, the way it cursed him, until he ran into something that prevented him from brooding. Looking up, it was Castiel. 

Dean’s eyebrows knit tightly together, as he tilted his head, offering a double-take in disbelief to Castiel’s determination. 

“Listen to me.” Castiel’s voice hinted towards scolding, as if talking to a child, as Dean looked to him for a long moment. 

“Alright, but first,” The two of them were practically standing with their noses touching. “Some space, maybe.” Dean took a step back, and Castiel did, too, despite seeming perplexed as to why. 

“Dean,” Castiel repeated, as if ensuring that his companion was absolutely listening, as if talking to a dog that was trying to learn how to sit, “I do not understand many things about humans. But, I understand that you are in a weakened state.” 

Dean squinted, clearly unmoved. 

“But, I also don’t know what I could say to help you.”

“Exactly. There’s nothing.” Dean patted Castiel on the shoulder, before attempting to move past him. “Good talk.” 

Castiel’s arm moved outwards, blocking Dean from leaving, as he looked to him very seriously. 

“This is not your fault, Dean.” 

The reasons why Castiel would try to convince Dean of something like this didn’t add up. Well, if there were any reasons at all to tell Dean this. 

“And, why are you-” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Just what do you know, Cas? Huh? You think… what? Telling me something like that will make me feel better? Well- you’re right,” Castiel looked impressed, “Except, _wait_. You’re not. It does nothing for me, actually. You would have saved much more time just allowing me to sob around by myself.” 

Dean didn’t know at what point, but he had an iron grip on Castiel’s trench coat with one hand. 

“I didn’t think that.” Castiel informed him, simply. “I thought that, in reality, you didn’t want to be alone.”

Dean looked to him, though said nothing. 

“That’s why you tried praying, isn’t it? You wanted someone to be here.” 

“No, I-”

Castiel only returned Dean’s glare, knowingly. The angel clearly didn’t understand what Dean was going through, or how it made him feel, but he was trying. He had no words to say, but he kept trying to say something. He didn’t know why. 

“Dean, I’ve been watching some TV.” 

The statement came from nowhere, and made Dean drop his frustrated grip on Castiel’s coat out of exasperation. When Castiel didn’t follow up his thought, Dean begrudgingly prompted him. “... Yeah? And?” 

Castiel blinked, and looked to the side, as if he were about to share something hard to believe, before saying, “I’ve seen… in times of necessary comfort, it is appropriate for two people to hug. And I should pat you on the head. And say things… like ‘it’s alright’, even though sometimes it seems untrue.” 

Dean lowered Castiel’s arm, the same arm that had been keeping him in one place the whole time, as he took a few moments to process was Castiel was saying. 

“Are you… suggesting that you and I have a little… girl’s night out?” Dean gesticulated as he spoke, squinting in disbelief as he did so, before adding, “What kinda sappy chick flicks have you been binging, Cas? Are you gonna hash out some jammies, next?” 

Castiel arched a brow in response. “No… I don’t think ‘jammies’ are necessary.” 

It was like talking to a brick wall. Or, a grandfather who had been senile for 20 years. 

“Okay, then… what? We hug, and then you’ll leave me alone? I can get back to allowing Sam to rot inside that safe? Sounds great. Bring it in.” 

“If that will alleviate your pain in someway, then yes.” 

“It won’t, but since we’re playing House right now, I’ll pretend. But-” This part was important. Dean pointed at Castiel very deliberately, making sure he’d understand, “I’m Dad, you’re Mom.” 

The angel had a moment of confusion, pressing his eyebrows and lips together, before seemingly deciding that he understood enough to nod once. 

Castiel spread his arms open for Dean to step into his embrace, something that took him a moment to fully understand. Castiel looked oddly stupid- arms open, face blank, waiting for a full grown man to come into his arms. Clearly, Cas had no idea what was supposed to come after this. For a being of absolute order, it was completely out of the water. 

Dean didn’t know why, but he eventually moved forward, and wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders. The angel, in return, pressed his hands over Dean’s back, not in a full hug, but as close as the two of them would get. Castiel’s chin pressed against Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s cheek was pressed against the side of Castiel’s head. 

It was awkward. Horribly so. It wasn’t comforting, either. It was downright the worst. But. For some reason… as Dean felt the warmth of another person, and as his eyes searched for answers in the empty night, he felt relieved. It wasn’t the same was when he and Sam had their sappy, chick-y moments. Hell, it definitely was nothing like when he held some girl. 

For a moment, Dean pressed his forehead to Cas’ shoulder, and he shut his eyes. He still felt angry. He felt scared, lost, and alone. Castiel had done barely anything to help alleviate that. Yet, the weight to bear was still less than before. 

Dean began to feel Castiel’s arm shifting, as it reached for his head. Dean ignored it, for a moment, until he began to feel the angel’s fingers, sloppily fumbling through his hair and slightly smacking him on the head. It was pretty much the least comforting, stemming on most annoying, gesture he’d ever felt. 

“... Cas,” Dean’s voice was soft, muffled against his companion’s shoulder, “What’re you doing?” 

Castiel’s hand kept going, smacking the back Dean’s head lightly, before responding, “... Patting you.” 

“... Yeah. Stop that.” 

“Right.” 

The awkward gesture stopped, though Castiel kept his hand on Dean’s head. 

“Do you feel better?” It was harder to take Castiel seriously when he was struggling so hard to be human. He was oozing awkwardness, practically drenched in it, and leaving a trail of it behind him everywhere he went. 

Dean lifted his head, and looked to him, hands cupping Castiel’s shoulders. “Mm… nah, not really.” 

Castiel appeared disappointed, though not surprised. “But, for some reason, you did help me a little, princess. Though- next time- when you bring the daycare, make sure you bring a tutu.” 

“Your sarcasm is excessive.” 

“Nah, I mean it.” Dean patted the side of Castiel’s face, smiling at him sarcastically, before letting go of their hug and beginning to walk back to Bobby’s. “And, when you do, I like pink.” He called over his shoulder, as Castiel watched him go. 

With Dean’s back turned, Castiel rubbed at his temples, as he tried to fight back a small smile that wouldn’t go away. He didn’t know if it was because of Dean’s sense of humor, though it typically wasn’t funny and/or made no sense, or if it was just Dean.


End file.
